


Turing Test

by halfd3af



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Dissociation, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Post-Canon, neurodivergency momence for Gordon Benrey and Tommy, vague mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27694172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfd3af/pseuds/halfd3af
Summary: Gordon Freeman largely kept to himself. He found the natural laws of the universe more fascinating than people, and actively ensured that he never let anyone get too close. It always led to misery.Fresh out of grad school and with a PhD added to his name, he noticed an advertisement while job searching on LinkedIn. A company he’d never heard of was seeking play-testers for their experimental virtual reality game, and the compensation was too good to be real. But there was a catch: Gordon didn’t know he’d be thrust into an all-too-lifelike apocalypse.After finally escaping that hell, with his companions somehow joining him in the real world, Black Mesa had one last job for him: teach these AI to become more than just machines. A loner with no friends, asked to become a teacher on what it meant to be human, all because these chaotic not-people tolerated him more than those previously? Gordon felt he would regret accepting their ludicrous proposition.
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman, Bubby/Dr. Coomer, Tommy Coolatta/Darnold
Comments: 43
Kudos: 172





	1. Simulation Theory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got HLVRAI brainworms so here is ANOTHER fanfic

The droning of the hotel room’s air conditioner reminded him of the monstrous amalgamation of helicopters. He flexed his right hand as many chances as he could, just to remind himself that it was still attached. There were images of viscera branded into his retinas that he couldn’t blink away as he stared at the unfamiliar ceiling. Sewage aromas still ghosted his sinuses despite a sterile air freshener permeating the small space.

The employees at Black Mesa’s testing facility told him he had been in the simulation for six days, and the calendar app on his phone confirmed that with every instance of him checking. He was happy to have skipped Thanksgiving, as the thought of his family coaxed the habitual anger back to the surface. It added to the adrenaline already ricocheting through his nerves, a phantom sensation from the simulation, they said. Gordon felt capable of running a marathon, despite the soreness in his muscles from lying in a bed for so long.

Dr. Ross had apologized profusely to him after he had awoken, citing something about how “accurately” the program had responded to his presence compared to previous attempts. They had never seen such vividness in the player’s experiences before, or such self-aware dialogue from the artificial intelligence. “They passed our parameters beautifully!” Ross had chirped excitedly, the Englishman’s face illuminated with an eager grin. The complete opposite reaction was coursing through Gordon; he felt like he had woken up from a nightmarish coma and he couldn’t stop flinching at every sudden movement in the corner of his eye. When a nurse maneuvered into close proximity to remove the cannula from his forearm, he nearly slapped the poor man in the face as he abruptly recoiled.

The only other things he retained throughout that subsequent debriefing with Ross were mentions of “therapy” and “increased compensation”. He was to expect a call from the doctor sometime tomorrow morning. But for now, Gordon was expected to decompress, relax, take a breather. Something that didn’t seem even remotely possible in the moment.

He doesn’t know how long he sat there in the growing darkness of his room until he rises to his feet with the effort of a depressed panda, sparing a glance at his phone as he walked towards the bathroom. An hour had passed since they dropped him off here. Motivation slowly came to him as he stripped off his shirt and sweatpants, looking forward somewhat to a hot shower. The water pressure felt heavenly against his aching body, and he sunk onto the tile flooring of the shower stall to let it cascade over him. Gordon pulled his hair tie off, freeing the ponytail so he could mindlessly scrub the grease from the brown curls with some shampoo.

Fingernails against his scalp distracted him from the imagery of Benrey’s Lovecraftian form on Xen, how their dozens of eyes seemed to pierce through his skin like needles, the way their body tore apart and reformed with each shot of his minigun. 

He didn’t want to remember the chilling words of Dr. Coomer after realizing that he was in a simulation, his face glossing over with an indescribable look. The cacophony of “Hello, Gordon!” greetings from hundreds of his clones had reverberated in his very bones, especially the disturbing demand of the original to escape through Gordon’s body like an electrical conduit. There were several knots in his hair, and he pulled through them slowly with a careful finger. 

When he lathered his skin with the hotel soap, there was no blood to scrub off. Only several days worth of sweat clung to his skin. He dried off with a towel, feeling both refreshed and naked without the bulky HEV weighing him down. Not wanting to deal with more tangles in his hair, he used his hairdryer and appreciated the warm air against his neck. It was nothing like the intense heat that would explode from Bubby’s fingertips. Gordon shoved his legs into some clean boxer briefs and sweatpants after brushing through his mane of hair. 

That methodical task had soothed him slightly, and he breathed a relaxed sigh after pulling on a shirt branded with the letters “MIT”. He left the light in the bathroom on, closing the door almost completely, and settled underneath the covers of the nearby bed. His body begged for him to sleep, yet his brain was wide awake. The melatonin chewable he had taken wouldn’t kick in for a little while, so Gordon decided to play some music to wait for the chemical to metabolize.

Nothing on his regular playlist fit his unique state of mind though. There were too many rock or alternative songs that kicked his anxiety into high gear. 

The discordant piano notes and despairing lyrics of _Apocalypse Please_ , how his thoughts raced at the mentioning of feeling “empty” in Everything Everything’s _Desire_ , or the menacing tone of _Infra-Red_. It all was too much. 

He finally decided upon something less lyrically intensive: _The Grand Staircase_ by Port Blue. His mood seemed to mimic the synth instrumentals in its gentleness, and he let himself get lost in it after hitting the loop button.

Gordon heard a harsh knocking at the door. He considers ignoring it, before noticing the amount of sunlight filtering through the curtains. Had his phone ever rung? A glance at the charging device on the nightstand, still playing music, confirmed that he had missed several attempts at being called by Dr. Ross. 

“One.. one second!” He shouts when the noise happens a second time, thankful that he slept in pants that he wouldn’t need to throw on. 

Pushing his glasses onto the bridge of his nose, he rushes clumsily to the door. He pulls it open, and he doesn’t think that he’s actually awake. A quintet of individuals that he never thought he’d see again were standing out in the hallway, along with an apologetic Dr. Ross at the front. The group quiets their conversations at seeing him, most likely expecting him to say something.

His tongue feels like it’s covered in sand, and his right hand contorts in a nervous flex. “Am... am I dreaming?” He mumbles, forcing his eyelids shut into a few harsh blinks. “Hello, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer exclaims joyfully, and he wants a black hole to open up beneath him immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, choosing psychology related terms for chapter names:  
> me, realizing that this could be the perfect instance of referencing Muse 2018’s album name while still somewhat keeping to the theme: >:D
> 
> fun fact I had a depressive episode and listened to EE’s Desire repeatedly during said event so I wanted to reference that moment I guess lol


	2. Enclothed Cognition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god I can’t believe I started this fic as a break from my OTHER hlvrai fic and now this is becoming just as intensive lmao

He now had six people in his small living room. Dr. Ross was flanked by Tommy and Benrey on the couch, while Darnold and Coomer took up residence on two nearby armchairs. Bubby and Gordon were the only ones standing, and he kept his gaze level to the carpet to avoid staring at any particular person. The compulsion to study their appearances was immense, but he settled for tightly gripping the hem of his shirt.  _ What the hell is going on? _

“I would have explained the situation to you on the phone earlier, but you didn’t respond” Ross explains softly, his eyes sympathetic when he glances up at them, and he cringes for two reasons: having voiced his thought aloud and for sleeping through the call. 

The rest of his visitors had sat down wordlessly after entering his hotel room, and their combined silence was unnerving him greatly. Coomer hadn’t even spoken after his earlier greeting. “Regardless.. you must have many questions that I’ll do my best to answer” The doctor continues, and Gordon shakes his head in an effort to clear his mind. 

“As you were made aware before the test, the individuals around me are part of Black Mesa’s AI experimentation. The goal had always been to bring them into the real world, but only after significant progress had been made on their personality development. And you, Gordon, catalyzed something in them that we had never achieved before in our years of testing. Do you remember the last thing that happened before you woke from the simulation?” Ross states, and he has to dredge through the past twelve hours of thoughts to remember. 

There was the absurd birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese, then his vision had been black before the experiment ended, with Coomer’s words echoing in his ears. “ _You_ _beat the video game! And.. now I imagine you’ll shut it down. Move on with your life. Onwards and upwards, eh Gordon?” _ The man had said, and as he mentally retraced their following words of gratitude, insight struck him like a bullet.

“ _Must_ _this really be the end of our time together? You could take us with you, we could see the world!” _ Coomer had exclaimed excitedly, and everything clicked into place. He was awash in the glow of something he couldn’t quite describe, and it drowned out every thought in his head. “I did this? They’re in our world because of me?” Gordon murmurs aloud, and the ‘AI psychologist’ nods his head. 

“They settled into their new bodies with astonishing speed, and while I had initially advised against it, they were all quite adamant about meeting you as soon as possible” They explained, and he now felt comfortable enough to observe his visitors.

Their attire was an assortment of Black Mesa employee clothing, most likely due to the fact that they didn’t own anything themselves. Everyone resembled their in-game avatars quite accurately, with the exception of Benrey. They looked like a completely different person with their platinum white hairstyle, sticking out from underneath their plain beanie. Even their eyebrows were white. Their silence was yet another contrast with how they were in the simulation. And out of all of them, they actually seemed the most uncomfortable, fidgeting with their hands just like he had been. 

That was when he noticed the anxious tension in the room. There must have been the expectation that he would’ve reacted badly, punctuating a supposed rage with yelling and screaming. He wasn’t a loud person, always holding his emotions back, yet shouting had been his go-to response in the simulation whenever something went awry.

But honestly? He wasn’t capable of feeling anything right now. Gordon ripped his gaze away from them to focus back on Dr. Ross. “What’s going to happen to everyone now?” He asked, and the doctor had an answer ready.

“Well, now that they’ve been transferred into their new bodies, Black Mesa wants to see how they’ll react and what they can accomplish with being fully immersed in real-world experiences. We thought we should offer you the position of being their ‘guide’, so to speak” He explains, and Gordon can’t think straight.  _ They want me to handle five people who weren’t even fully human as of just last night?_

“Now, we would certainly assist you in this endeavor in multiple facets! Everyone, including you, would have frequent therapy sessions as a way to check in. We would compensate any and all necessary expenses, and our team is already searching for a residence in which all six of you could live in comfortably...” Ross spouts off immediately, surely thinking he would need further convincing.

But he didn’t. He had stopped listening after he mentioned something about getting a “suitable vehicle” for them. “Okay, sure” Gordon replies monotonously, and the man balks at this. His brain was a gelatinized splatter in his skull, he didn’t have the ability to mull over the hundreds of implications that this situation would generate for a normal person. He would let the tidal wave overwhelm him later.

“You... are you certain? We already put you through quite a stressful series of events, so I know that this is an enormous request...” Ross replies, his face both appreciative and concerned. “Well, you’re right that I’m probably the best person to do this. We’ve been through hell and back together, so it... it doesn’t seem possible for me to just forget that this all happened” He explains, giving a sigh that seems to travel throughout his entire body. 

Ross shoots a glance at his silent companions. “Now that I’ve finished explaining everything, do you all have anything to say?” The strawberry-blonde asks, and the resulting sonic explosion of words felt like shrapnel in his eardrums. He didn’t know that they had been holding themselves back for his sake.

“One.. one at a time!” Gordon retorts with an exasperated chuckle, somewhat relieved that nothing about them had changed. “It’s.. it’s so good to see you, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy exclaimed first, getting to his feet to show how much taller he was than him. With a few hesitant steps forward, they opened up their arms. Normally, Gordon despised hugs with an intense passion. But he felt desperate for some kind of normal human behavior, so he accepted the embrace with zero hesitation.

He heard the shuffle of feet, and he felt the shorter Coomer join at his side. Bubby grumbled something inaudible, maneuvering in beside his partner. “Can I join too?” Darnold asked hesitantly, and Gordon chuckled. “Of course you can” He replied, and then he shifted his gaze to the last one left. “Benrey?” He asked, and their head rose up with a flinch. Purple eyes stared at him intensely, serving as the final nail in the coffin on their albino appearance.

The one who had antagonized him for the entirety of the game looked so.. _vulnerable_ compared to when he last saw them. Without their helmet and stiff security attire, Benrey looked as harmless as a marshmallow. So he felt compelled to do something that he probably never would have done otherwise.

“Get your ass over here, you bastard” Gordon requests with a huff, and they seemed completely caught off guard before their face smoothes into the relaxed expression he was more acquainted with. A twinge of sadness pulled at his heart when he realized they hadn’t felt welcome enough, and he recalls with mixed emotions their words about not wanting to be ‘bad’. However, that line of thinking was dispelled rather quickly when they finally spoke up.

“So you’ve been looking at my ass, huh?” They quip as they walk over, and he laughs a little too loudly at this. He didn’t mind it, though. It felt nice. The group hug lasted for a few long moments before his stomach growled, and Coomer commented on his “tummy having the rumblies”. Now everyone was laughing, and Gordon rolled his eyes in response, a smile gracing his lips nonetheless.

“Everyone’s going to need their own wardrobes of clothing, and there’s a mall with a food court nearby..” Ross eventually posits, and the Science Gang seems eager for this opportunity. More real world experiences. Everyone left the room for him to get dressed into something less unkempt, and all of them piled into a Mazda with room for seven passengers. He wasn’t quick enough to get shotgun, as Bubby beat him to it. Gordon then found himself sandwiched in between Darnold and Benrey in the back row, and the claustrophobia unsettled him more than he thought it would. 

While everyone chatted about what they were looking forward to eating, he tried to focus his attention on anything other than the anxiety pooling in his gut, erasing his appetite. His fingernails clawed into his jeans when the car drove over a pothole, and he thought he was going to be sick.

“Yo, uh, Feetman” Benrey said next to him, and Gordon’s eyes shifted to stare at them. “Will this mall have a GameStop? I’d love to get my hands on a freakin uh, PlayStation 4...” They mumble, and he shrugs. Video games were the last thing he wanted on his mind right now, and they seemed oblivious to this, proceeding to ramble on about some obscure game they wanted to try out.

“Bro, you even listening? I’m trying to-“ They ask, before getting cut off by the commotion that ensued from Ross announcing that they were ‘here’. When Gordon found his first available opening to pull himself out the car, he did. A sign with the words “Coronado Center” hung off the nearby entrance into the mall, and not even his current state of mind could prevent him from enjoying the enthusiastic snippets of conversation from the group.

“I... I wonder how big it is!” Tommy wondered, while Coomer was eager to see if they had an athletics store to purchase some boxing gloves. Bubby was silent, but Gordon could tell they were just as excited from their open body language and how they grinned at their partner. When Darnold mentioned something about finding some flashy new tennis shoes, he felt a hand tap his shoulder. 

“I’ll be heading back to the office to continue making preparations, so just call me when you’re all shopped out!” Ross said suddenly beside him, shoving a credit card into his hand. Before he could object, the Englishman was already heading back into the driver’s seat. He didn’t think he would be thrust right into the thick of it so soon, all on his lonesome. 

Suppressing a sigh and the new heap of anxiety trying to escape through a facial expression, he turned to face the six individuals idling behind him. “Who.. whose hungry?” Gordon asks with a forced smile, and all six raise their hands.

It’s nearly noon, so the group headed to a Five Guy’s inside the food court. The menu was varied enough that it could suit everyone’s tastes, and the thought of sinking his teeth into a cheeseburger made Gordon’s mouth water. He had been so caught up with the events of yesterday that he had forgotten to eat last night. 

This would be the first actual meal that he’d had in a week, not counting the intravenous nutrients he’d been pumped full of. Everyone behaved quite well compared to his expectations, with it only becoming apparent that they were an odd looking group when they filed into a single-file queue to order their meals, with their nearly identical clothing.  _ At least there aren’t hundreds of Dr. Coomers or Bubbys.  _

He couldn’t help smiling when he saw the look on Tommy’s face at how the “small” fries they had ordered turned out to be monstrously portioned. They ended up sharing them with Darnold, who had ordered a grilled cheese sandwich. The others had ordered burgers, and he relished in the taste of the warm beef patty on his tongue. 

He finished both of his burgers without much difficulty, letting loose a burp, which earned a scoff from Bubby and a comment from Coomer about being “a growing lad who needed their protein”. Benrey merely let loose an even louder belch, and Tommy followed suit. “You all disgust me” Bubby commented with a scowl, and they themselves soon burped which caused both a laugh to ripple across their table and a deepening of said scowl.

Taking a sip of his fountain drink, he soon noticed the difficulty that Benrey was having as they tried to manage their attention between both their several burgers and two milkshakes, not having been able to decide on which flavor they wanted. Despite himself, a sputtered laugh caused soda to dribble down his chin when they ludicrously shoved both straws into their mouth at the same time. 

Their lavender eyes flitted to meet his in an instant. “You’re.. you’re a messy little boy, aintcha?” They stated, a similar occurrence happening as they spoke with their full mouth. Gordon laughed even harder, and the coke squirted out through his nose onto the table. Benrey let loose a loud cackle as he tried to clean both himself up and the table, annoyed that he had proven their point.

They went through so many stores that they all blended together in his mind. Tommy and Darnold were the easiest to find clothes for, mostly sticking to shops catered to stylish adults like GAP or H&M. Once they found their sizes after using the dressing rooms, the two of them had several full bags of new clothing each.

Bubby went feral in the Ralph Lauren, buying dozens of identical turtlenecks and sweatervests, while Coomer purchased several rugby shirts to go for a more sporty look. While Gordon wasn’t looking, Benrey had snuck off while the two “grandpas” were trying on more formal attire in the fitting room, and they returned with a multitude of pins stuck to their beanie.

He opened his mouth to ask where they had gotten them from, but thought better of it. When the two eldest men of the group waltzed out to show off the clothing, even Gordon couldn’t help but feel his mouth gape open. They absolutely rocked the three-piece business suits. “Wow! I think.. I want one of those!” Tommy exclaimed, standing up to go look for their size, with Darnold not far behind. Bubby and Coomer left to find more similar clothing, leaving just him, Benrey, and a massive number of shopping bags surrounding his feet.

As he sent a quick text to Ross, asking if it was alright for them to be spending such high amounts of money, Benrey sat down on the bench next to him. A resounding agreement was the man’s reply, and he sighed with relief. “Can we, uh, go to GameStop next? Pretty please?” His benchmate asks, and the polite tone made him do a mental double take. “You haven’t even gotten any clothes yet, but all you’re focused about are video games?” Gordon counters, annoyance creeping into his voice.  _ Couldn’t they think about anything else?_

“Nothing’s really uh, catching my eye. Not any good loot around here” They reply, staring down at the carpet and he cringes slightly at his former response. “Well, do you know what stuff you might like?” He inquires more nicely, and Benrey gives a silent shrug. “Do you like solid colored clothing? Stuff with designs or logos on it?” Gordon tries again, and another shrug. “Athletic? Comfortable? Punk? Trendy?” He suggests, and is greeted with yet another silent noncommittal answer. His patience shorts out again. “There’s gotta be something, man!” He urges, waving his hand for emphasis, and Benrey seems to shrink into themselves. 

“Stop with the QTEs, bro. I can’t.. can’t keep up” They mumble, and the familiar awkwardness is back. Before he can respond, the others return with their hauls. He feels like he should apologize, but he can’t find the energy in him to do so. Gordon couldn’t quite shake off the tenseness still residing in his muscles, and with every excited yell from his companions sending a spark of adrenaline through him, he thought he would never be able to relax. All his memories spent with these people had been in life or death scenarios, and he didn’t know if he’d be able to shake that association.

After paying for the clothing, Gordon checked the nearby mall directory for the location of a certain store. Benrey’s eyes lit up when they reached their destination, and they scrambled inside the GameStop without a word. They somehow seemed to know exactly where to look, and before long, they had several plastic game cases in their arms. Their gaze gravitated towards some gaming related t-shirts before they continued towards the checkout counter, and as they set about purchasing a PlayStation 4, Gordon had an idea.

When he paid for Benrey’s purchases, he guided the group towards Hollister. As they glance across the wide array of merchandise displays, he can get the sense that they’re overwhelmed. “Just.. pick out some pants for right now, okay?” He posits lightly, assuming they just needed direction, and they glance down at him with an indescribable expression. This dissolves into a more blank look as they search for what he had suggested, and to his relief, they manage to snag several pairs of black sweatpants and jeans each. Their fingers caress the fabric of a nearby navy-colored hoodie, and they grab that as well.

After they finish trying their choices on, he hands them his phone after pulling up the search engine. “Hot Topic and Spencer’s make shitty clothing, you’d probably find better video game shirts online” Gordon suggests, and they take it wordlessly. “Um, nice. Epic Freeman moments” They mumble as he takes the clothing from their arms, and he smiles to himself as he walks over to the cashier, happy that his plan worked. When he returns, he uses the credit card to pay for several carts worth of clothing from online sites. 

Not knowing where to have them shipped, he simply inputs the address of Black Mesa’s research facility. With winter fast approaching, he knows they’re all in need of waterproof clothing if they were to be living in New Mexico for the foreseeable future. That was the last stop on their trip, and his heart dropped as the group threatened to split up all over the massive Dick’s store. He corralled everyone towards the footwear section first, and it felt like pulling teeth.

Bubby kept complaining about the lack of professional shoes in stock, and Gordon had to remind them that they simply needed a pair of sneakers for every day use. “Besides, you completely ignored the shoes in the other stores we were in, and we’re not going back” He added, and they selected a pair of red sneakers with a huff. At least Darnold was excited by this part. 

Selecting snow boots for everyone proved slightly easier, and then it was onto the fun part: snow jackets. There were a wide variety of them to choose from, and the group were choosing a rainbow of a different colors. Gordon felt himself drawn to an 80’s style ski jacket as the others moved onto finding hats and mittens, which Benrey was very eager about the former. “That’s... that’s a cool looking jacket, Gordon!” Tommy said beside him, and he couldn’t help but nod in agreement. “But I can’t buy it, I’d get made fun of” He replies softly, his brain pulled in the direction of an old memory.

“I-I don’t know anyone who would make fun of you for wearing.. for wearing such an awesome coat!” His companion replied, that statement striking something deep inside him. He grabbed it off the clothing rack, and when the group reconvened at the check-out counters, he felt nervous holding the only thing he had bought that day.

“Gordon, that’s quite a snazzy looking coat!” Coomer exclaimed, with Bubby and Darnold giving similar nods. “Nice” Benrey stated simply, drawing out the consonants of the word. For some reason, he felt a large grin paint his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god I struggled with this chapter a lot because so many of the descriptions of shopping get so BORING, I can only make it so interesting lmao and it doesnt help that the Science Team needs AN ENTIRE WARDROBE, not just a few things
> 
> shopping for clothes was like pulling teeth for Teenage Me, so I relate heavily to Benrey here: “just give me something simple pls”
> 
> I like to think that Benrey is very much more awkward/quiet in the real world, can’t rely on Sweet Voice for showing their emotions, and then they also feel guilty about the events of the game so they’re just like, constantly anxious lmao
> 
> Ross is a reference to my fav AI-related sci fi video game, SOMA, with one specific line in this being a reference to his in-game dialogue: “I will make preparations!”
> 
> also, I characterize Gordon like an abused pet; he has the capability to be vulnerable with others, he just needs to learn to trust people again, I’ll go more into that soon 
> 
> Black Mesa, seeing the bits of Gordon’s psyche implemented into the game: oh god this man needs therapy


	3. General Adaptation Syndrome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna include the ski trip but I pushed it back so the tone would be Better lmao
> 
> it took me a while of editing this to get it to how I wanted, I didn’t want things to feel Out of Left field, so enjoy!

The flight back to his apartment in Boston went smoothly. Gordon spent the majority of his several hours on the airplane planning out what he needed to pack in his apartment, though there wasn’t quite much. A lot of it was secondhand furniture that he had no intention of keeping— the most expensive thing was his gaming PC— so there were only going to be a handful of boxes and his bed in the moving truck that was being rented. 

He adjusted the strap of his messenger bag as he traveled down the long stretch of hallway towards the luggage carousels, and as he waited to haul his small suitcase off the conveyor belt, he checked through his phone notifications that he couldn’t see earlier. There were multiple text messages and missed calls, along with a voicemail.

> 505-121-0972
> 
> _ now I can take more high-res pictures of your feet, bro_

> 505-031-8015
> 
> _ Mr. Freeman, we all got cell phones! I hope your flight was good!_

> 505-112-7955
> 
> _ Hello, Gordon! Did you know that the development of metal-oxide-semiconductor (MOS) large-scale integration (LSI) technology, information theory, and cellular networking led to the development of affordable mobile communications? _

He didn’t know whether to groan or smile at their ability to text him now. The group hadn’t been getting on his nerves too much the past few days, but he was on edge all the same due to their penchant for chaos. The voicemail was calling his name, however, so he hesitantly selected it. “Yo, Feetman! We’re going on a road trip when you get back!” Benrey’s voice boomed into his ear, and Gordon winced at the intensity.

“Your ass better be ready for getting destroyed.. uh, in snowboarding. I can totally shred. Tony Hawk’s got nothing on me, man” They mumble, and he can’t help but chuckle as they descend into a rant about  _Pro Skater_. There’s the sound of someone asking a question in the background, and Benrey groans. “Ugh, Coomer needs help setting up furniture. Why’s he gotta be so OLD” They sigh, and he hears Bubby snap at them about “disrespect” before the voicemail ends. 

The Uber ride back to his apartment was contemplative. He didn’t need a job with how much money he was earning from Black Mesa by being an AI chaperone, so maybe Gordon would have more time to pursue his interests.  _ Maybe I could finally get Wayne some more friends_. When he stepped into the studio apartment he had lived in for the past three years, it felt soul-crushingly desolate. The overcast sky provided little light into the room, but he noticed Wayne sitting on the windowsill over the kitchen sink.

“How’re you doing, buddy?” He asks softly, studying the cactus he had been caring for during all his years in Boston. Some neglected laundry laid on his bed from when he had packed for his trip, and the mattress creaked loudly underneath his weight. Now that he was supposed to be packing, his body ached at the thought, and not just from the jetlag. This had been his home for so long, and it felt wrong to be leaving it in such an abrupt fashion, especially when he had no idea what would lay in store for him back in New Mexico.

He’d had a routine throughout his years of college at MIT: eat, study, go to class, study, work on research, sleep, repeat. The vacuum in his schedule after graduating had been suffocating, and now he was expected to fill that time with... generic human activities? Instead of an intensive career in physics research? 

It was even more disorienting than the disturbing experiences he had picked up from his time in the simulation. Gordon forced himself off his bed to go purchase some boxes from the store, so that when the moving truck arrived tomorrow, the contents of his life would be ready for a new home across the continent.

It was gigantic; six rooms, four bathrooms, a basement, and a spacious backyard with a gorgeous view of the surrounding Sandia Mountains. Despite the serenity of their isolated home, he didn’t have much time to relish in it before the Science Team began overwhelming him with their ideas for decorating. “I say that the basement should stay a home theater” Bubby suggested, glaring from the corner of their eyes at Benrey as they spoke.

“Bro, it can also be a gamer pad!” The albino replied, and the elder individual scoffed. “You’d just hog the damn thing! Play your video games in your room or something” They countered, and Gordon stood there wordlessly as Coomer had to step in before it became a full-blown argument. He was too tired from jetlag for their nonsense so soon, so he left to move his luggage from the foyer to his new bedroom.

He had very little to do. They were leaving later that evening for a ski resort in northern Utah, so he had left his other suitcase in the car along with his laptop and Nintendo Switch. Gordon swiped some hangers that he’d brought and began displaying the clothes he wasn’t taking with him in the closet. His hands soon held his favorite dress shirt, and he looked fondly at the orange fabric as he remembered how he’d worn it to defend his doctoral thesis. 

He remembered how excited he had been to tell people about it, only to find that he’d had no one. There were some online friends that he had, but not anyone he was particularly close to. It really hurt that he wasn’t able to inform his parents of such a profound achievement, but it’s not like he wanted to talk to them anyway. He just wanted the satisfaction of rubbing it in their faces after all their constant expressions of disapproval. 

But then that mood quickly deflated when he remembered that he didn’t have a job, and had no clue if he would ever even use his degree. His anxiety rolled into motion at that train of thought. What was the point of eight years of college, if he wasn’t going to do anything with his PhD? Was he just going to submit to the whims of these anthropomorphized computer programs for the rest of his life? If not, was there even anything out there for him?

Maybe this was the only thing he was good for, if he couldn’t even find a job right out of college.  _ God, I must be the most pathetic graduate of MIT’s physics program. What kind of scientist becomes a lab rat themselves out of financial desperation? _

He glanced at the box in the corner of the room, a package asking to be assembled into a bed. Something that he could reasonably fix compared to the existential crisis screaming pitifully inside his skull. So with an angry sigh, he used the pocket knife on his keychain to slice open the massive cardboard container.

“Tommy? I need some help—“ Gordon called out as he walked into the kitchen, and stopped dead when he saw Benrey holding Wayne. “What are you doing? Put him down!” He exclaimed, rushing over to grab the cactus before something could happen to it. He wasn’t about to let his 4 year old cactus get destroyed by some barely human bastard. “Bro, chill. I was just... looking. Don’t be such a dad, Gordad” They replied as he snatched the plant from their hands.

Lavender eyes suddenly widened as they finished this sentence. “Yo, where’s Joshua?” Benrey asked, and his face lit up with confusion. “You know... your son that looks like shit?” They continue, and he rolls his eyes. His patience was better than it had been in the simulation, but too many things were currently eating away at his sanity.

“I never had a son” He replies, and they balk at this confession. “No way! You.. you’re too much of a buzz-kill to not be a dad... right, Tommy?” They continue, glancing towards the man as they walk into the kitchen from the living room. 

“Oh, I heard you say my name, Gordon! We’re... we’re setting up the TV in the living room!” They explain, ignoring Benrey’s question, and he glances past him to see the others setting up cable channels. Coomer seemed to be very particular on getting access to the channels dedicated to MMA and WWE competitions.

“What did.. what did you need help with?” Tommy asks, and Gordon’s head snaps back to look at them. “Could you hold up the pieces of my bed while I tighten the bolts together?” He says, but before they can answer, Benrey sits up on the counter with a quick eye-catching motion.

“Feetman lied about having a son, how fucked up is that?” They interject, their feet kicking back and forth as they talk, and he grumbles at their insistence to stay on this subject. “The game just compelled me to do that, man! Black Mesa said.. they said that some of the background information in the game came from me, that it was personalized” He relays exasperatedly, and Benrey’s head tilts in curiosity.

“So whose Joshua?” They question again, and his body tenses in response. “I... it doesn’t matter” Gordon replies, averting his gaze as he tries to suppress his rising temper.  _ I don’t want to think about him right now. _ But to his dismay, Benrey’s face leers closer as they lean forward. 

“Oooh, hiding something? Big ol’ thief? Who’d you steal Joshua from?” The albino taunts, and he draws himself up to his full height of 6’0. Benrey was a few inches taller, and their position on the countertop gave them an even greater vertical advantage. He hated how they could so easily make him feel small, it brought up bad memories.

“Uh, Benrey? Maybe.. maybe you should just drop—“ Tommy said, their words fading into the background as all Gordon could think about was Benrey’s dumb expression looming in his field of vision. When they pestered him with inane inquiries in the simulation, he would fall for the bait every time. How could he not? He’d never met someone so capable of frying his brain, who contrasted his purposeful words with rambling and impulsive nonsense. And now they were goading a man who was on their last nerve. 

“You really wanna know? Joshua’s the name of my ex-boyfriend, okay?! The only partner I ever had and they fucking cheated on me right after I came out to my parents, when they told me they never wanted to see me again!” He shouted, the potted plant in his hand careening against the floor and shattering into a million pieces. The result almost made him speechless. Almost.

“Do.. do any of you know what I’m going through right now? My life is a complete fucking shitshow. I spent a third of my life towards a PhD I might never use, and that degree was the only hope I had of just.. being normal! I wasn’t your average kid growing up, which my parents openly and frequently reminded me of, and then when it became too much, they discarded me like trash! And now all this?” Gordon continues, adrenaline fueling his anger like gasoline as he gestures around at the people around him. “This just sealed my fucking fate. I’m a useless, unemployed freak that’s babysitting a bunch of cyborgs, and I’ll never amount to anything, ever!”.

With those words hanging in the room as he breathed heavily through his nostrils, he didn’t feel better, only worse. “I.. I’m sorry, I just...” He tries to apologize, but he’s all out of hot air. Now, he just wanted to get out of here. His body was beginning to feel more like a cage than something he was a part of. 

A sigh rattled through his teeth. “I’ll be in the car, y’all have to be at the office in twenty minutes for a check-in before our flight. Make sure you’re packed” Gordon states numbly, before turning around to walk through the door into the garage. 

When he got into the driver’s seat, he didn’t even bother turning the car on with the keys in his pocket. He just sat there, numbly staring at the steering wheel, before a sob shook his chest and hot tears began streaming down his face. Casting aside his glasses, he let himself cry for the first time in who knows how long.

He didn’t even hear the passenger door open, until there was the sound of someone clearing their throat. When he glanced up, he rushed to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “Here to.. here to make fun of me?” Gordon mumbled, but Benrey remained silent. Instead, they simply pulled their phone out of their jacket. A few seconds later, and music began playing from the speakers. “Is this... Undertale music?” He asked more loudly, shocked when he recognized the tune, but was promptly shushed. 

“Gonna.. gonna farm some Sarah Tone Ann from this epic soundtrack” They murmured, and a laugh sputtered from his mouth. “Some what?” Gordon asked, desperately needing clarification for whatever nonsense they just spoke. “Ya know... the juice that makes you feel Not Sad? Darnold’s always talking about it with.. with his mood potions” Benrey explains, and Gordon laughs again, more loudly than he anticipated. “Oh my god, you’re talking about SEROTONIN, it’s not Sarah Tone Ann!” He exclaims, his chest starting to hurt as he continues to chuckle.

When he looks up at them, wiping different types of tears from his eyes as his laughing stops, Benrey’s head pivots from staring at them to studying the floor of the car. “Um.. ya know I get it” They say softly, their fingers fidgeting with the drawstrings of their hoodie. He waits for them to elaborate, putting his glasses back on in the brief silence. 

“Being.. being a freak, I mean. Never really fit in anywhere. And now I’ve got a permanent debuff that makes me glow in the dark. No more stealth missions for Benrey” They mutter, twirling a strand of their shoulder length hair between their fingers. Gordon feels heat rise to his face as their words sink in.

He remembers them always being the odd-one-out in the group during the game, and how oddly sincere their “not wanting to be bad” speech seemed to be during the final fight. Were they really telling the truth? Despite how much they loved pushing his buttons, they had yet to act malicious ever since the simulation ended. They had no ‘Black Mesa Sweet Voice’, no ability to glitch through walls or to distort their form. They were just.. Benrey. An awkward individual who loved video games. 

“I guess we really aren’t that different, huh?” Gordon states, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. They roll their eyes at this. “Duh, it’s mega.. mega obvious, bro” Benrey responds, and now his embarrassment’s spread to his ears. “I.. I should probably go clean up my mess, huh?” He says, changing the subject. 

They shake their head. “Tommy already did. Said that you were clearly ‘stressing out’ the past couple of days, though all of us noticed, Gordumb. Big ol’ nerd who can’t hide for shit” His conversation partner explains, and at the mention of their name, he watched as Tommy peeked through a crack in the door. 

He shoved down the spike of further discomfort that Benrey’s statement gave him, that his attempts at suppressing his nerves had been fruitless. He gave Tommy a nervous smile and a wave, which they eagerly returned. Their face leaned out of sight, but before long, the rest of the Science Team was hauling their luggage out into the garage. 

After he turned the car on and opened the trunk with the push of a button, its slow ascent contrasted with Bubby’s clear impatience. “Are you done being a hysterical mess?” The old man yells through the new opening, and he can’t help but chuckle.

“I... I grabbed your suitcase, Benrey!” Tommy shouted as well, and Gordon heard them hoist it into the vehicle. “Are you feeling better, Gordon? We can’t have our leader being in such poor spirits!” Coomer asked as he strapped himself into his seatbelt, and the term ‘leader’ halted his brain’s processing for a moment. “Uh... yeah, I’m all good now. Are you guys all ready?” He asks after he gets his bearings back, and there’s a chorus of affirming statements in response.

The fifteen minute trip to the office was thankfully void of any references to Gordon’s earlier breakdown. They mainly discussed their excitement for the upcoming plane ride, which in turn made him slightly nervous. If they could make it through security just fine, then everything would be smooth sailing from there. 

When the group made their way into the building, he was taken aback by Dr. Ross suddenly trying to catch his attention as the others were led into separate rooms for their individual meetings. “You’re getting a session just like everyone else.. or did you forget?” The Englishman asks, and Gordon wants to slap himself for not remembering that part of their previous conversation. He was guided into a small office, and the fear that struck him was too palpable to dismiss. It reminded him of...

“Gordon? Are you alright?” He hears them ask, but all he can do is nod as he takes a seat in a nearby chair. Ross sends him a skeptical look but doesn’t press him further as they sit down as well. “So.. how has your day been so far? Are you excited for the trip?” The older man asks, and Gordon shifts his gaze to the floor. “I kinda, um, had a meltdown earlier? I yelled at Benrey...” He replies, his voice nearly dropping into a whisper, as if it was doing physical damage to speak those words. It sure felt like it was.

“Oh? Is this the first time this has happened since being out of the sim?” They reply, quickly following up with another question. He nods, and the psychologist smiles at this. “Your energies bounced off one another so easily in the simulation that I expected repeat occurrences” He elaborates, an amused twinkle in their eyes.

“Well, it wasn’t.. quite all their fault. Yes, they were baiting me into it, but it wasn’t just them” Gordon counters, and their face grows more serious. “I know I have some issues to work through, but.. but I don’t know where to start...” He continues, his shoulders sagging underneath a heavy emotional weight. There were a lifetime of experiences crushing him, and the thought of trying to sift through them was overwhelming.

“Well, the amount of stress you experienced in the simulation seemed to indicate that there were... other things affecting you than the current situation. Everyone has things they need help with, and you would be no exception. We have the next 45 minutes to chat, if you’d like to. Maybe it’ll help you feel less overburdened, so that you can enjoy your trip with the others” Dr. Ross suggests, and Gordon breathes a sigh as he tries to collect himself.

He told them about his childhood, about his parents, and their unrealistic expectations of him. How he went to a college on the other side of the country to escape them, and how he got his wish when they kicked him out after being accidentally outed. He was crying again when he discussed the discovery of his boyfriend cheating on him and subsequently dumping the cruel bastard right before Christmas, and how he almost attempted suicide on New Year’s Eve a few days later. 

But despite the heaviness of the session, he felt better when it ended. It was the first time he had told another person about what had happened to him, and they had simply listened. No judgement or criticisms, just, allowing him to take up the space he needed. It wasn’t something he’d ever had before, and he was grateful for it.

“Are.. are you alright, Gordon?” Tommy asked as he stepped out of Ross’ office, knowing that his eyes were most likely red from all the crying. “Yeah, I’m just fine, Tommy. I actually haven’t felt this good in a long time” Gordon said, and he really meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the latter part of the chapter is Corny but it’s cute, okay??? Gordon needs that good ol therapy pls
> 
> Benrey’s phone number is based on Brian Molko’s birthday, Tommy’s is the release date of Tekken 7, and Coomer’s is Bill Nye’s birthday!
> 
> I subscribe to the idea of “Joshua isn’t actually real” so that fit in well with my simulation theory thing lmao
> 
> also, Tommy and Bubby use he/they, I usually try to mix it up
> 
> There’ll be more Actual Dialogue from all the science gang members in future chapters, I just needed this Drama outta the way first


	4. Snowball Effect

“What’s this?” Benrey asks, glancing at the nearby liquids-only waste bin when the group began towards the security gates. “You’re not allowed to bring drinks through the checkpoints, so they make you pour them out” Gordon explains, and he watches in horror as they stick a hand inside. 

“Yo, I want a 1UP!” They chuckle, and before he can stop them, they’re drinking from their cupped palm. “What’s it taste like?” Darnold asks, an eager tone to his voice. Gordon shoots them a look, and they shrug their shoulders sheepishly. “What? It’s already too late, and I wanna document the possible effects” He replies, and Tommy chuckles beside him.

Benrey smacks their lips, squinting their eyes as they consider the flavor of who knows how many discarded beverages. “Fuck you” They declare monotonously, and it takes a second for Gordon to realize the reference as he laughs. “You know Vines?” He asks, and they smirk. “Yeah? I’m a.. I’m a furious magician, man. I know the Internet like the back of my eyes” Benrey responds, and he shakes his head at the disjointed idiom.

“C’mon, you slowpokes! I wanna get on the plane!” Bubby shouts, and he shifts his head to see the group already several feet away. Gordon rolls his eyes. “We’re coming!” He replies, but before he moves, he gazes back at his companion. “Don’t... don’t drink anything like that again, please” He insists, the begging barely disguised in his voice, but Benrey just gives a mischievous grin before running past him to catch up with the others.

When he handed over their boarding passes and respective driver’s licenses to the employee checking identification, he still couldn’t believe Benrey’s last name was “Morris”. Such an average name seemed underwhelming for a character such as them, but then Tommy’s last name was legally “Coolatta”. It was also wild that Black Mesa procured the documentation for the group so quickly, but that all must have been done far in advance.

“You guys gotta remove anything metallic to put in the bin, along with your coats and anything in your pockets” He instructs them, hoping to get this over with quickly. The novelty of having to explain unintuitive experiences to a group of people technically older than him was beginning to wear off. At least he didn’t need to teach them about technology. 

“Ugh, why we gotta do this, man? Totally not epic” Benrey sneers, folding their arms across their chest in resistance. “According to Wikipedia, a series of aircraft hijackings led the United States in 1972 to adopt metal detector technology to screen airline passengers! The Transportation Security Administration—“ Coomer states, but he waves at them to stop before the nearby employee overhears. The one thing that could make this worse is if Bubby mentioned something about causing a fire.

Before he can plead for their cooperation on this relatively simple task, Tommy and Darnold step forward to shrug off their jackets along with emptying their pockets. He breathes a sigh of relief as the others follow the duo’s lead. Benrey made a half-audible comment about Gordon’s feet when he removed his sneakers to stow inside the bin, and he surprisingly laughs at what should have been an expected response from them.

So when the hexad queues into the line for the metal detector, he’s distracted for long enough that he doesn’t realize that the scanner’s alarm is being set off. “Oooh, someone’s in trouble~” Benrey teases from behind him, and he groans inwardly as he struggles to figure out what it could be. Eventually, he remembers the piercings in his earlobes. After pointing them out to the attendant, he was given the all clear.

“Don’t worry, Gordon! Jewelry is frequently among the list of objects that commercial flight passengers have on their person during security checkpoints that set off the scanners!” Coomer chimed in as they all reacquired their belongings from the conveyor belt. “Yeah, and maybe you shoulda had your passport” Benrey adds, but before Gordon whips something snappy right back at them, he remembers what’s currently folded inside his bag.

“Hey, Benrey, do you have YOUR boarding pass on you by chance?” He asks innocently, and they squint in response. “You don’t, huh? I oughta keep a close eye on you then.. make sure you don’t steal any planes” Gordon continues, and the group laughs as Benrey mumbles something under their breath about the situation being “unfair”.

“Hello, my name is Hal Gerty, and I’ll be your captain this evening” A voice on the intercom announces jovially, but it’s completely overshadowed by the excitement the others are showing. Gordon watched as Bubby’s feet bounced against the floor restlessly, and through the gap in the seats, he saw that Tommy’s eyes were glued to the window. Hopefully, they were retaining at least a small portion of the safety instructions that the stewardess was walking everyone through. When the plane began taxiing across the pavement, he couldn’t help but laugh when Benrey let out a surprised “whoa we’re moving”. 

It angled into position on their flight’s designated lane, and after a few moments, they were hurtling down the runway. “This is what’s known as a takeoff roll, Bubby!” Coomer exclaimed beside Gordon over the roar of the engine, but his partner was cackling unabashedly with delight. It was comforting to know that the plane was relatively empty, so he wouldn’t have to feel too embarrassed at being associated with the group’s typical rowdiness. It was also beneficial that everyone was too distracted to notice his silent panicking.

“Wow! Darnold, this is... this is really something! The city lights are like... they’re like hundreds of fireflies on a warm summer evening!” Tommy said, as the heavy vibrations of the aircraft decreased in volume enough for Gordon to relax his death-grip on the arm of his chair. It had sounded too much like heavy artillery from tanks. “Liking the v-view, huh?” He called out, hoping the shifting air pressure would obscure his shaky tone. Tommy didn’t seem to notice. 

“Yeah! I bet it’s even more beautiful during the.. during the day time!” They reply, and he watched their head to face him, as it towered over the seat by several inches. “How long is the flight again, Gordon?” Tommy asks, and he attempts to camouflage his face into some resembling nonchalance. “It’s.. it’s about an hour?” He responds, hiding the panic in his brain by feigning concentration with his furrowed brows.

“Epic, just enough time for a nap” Benrey pipes up, letting out an exaggerated yawn. Huh, that was a pretty appealing idea to his circadian rhythm that was trapped three hours in the future. But he felt too tense for such a task, so he grabbed his headset from the messenger bag stowed by his feet. The opposing pressures of the cabin and outside the plane were messing with his ears, so he had to turn up the volume to counteract it. He selected  _ Dvp _ by PUP and closed his eyes to lose himself in the sounds of heavy guitar and angry vocals.

“Gordon?” He heard someone say, but it ghosted his brain like smoke, intangible and out of reach.  Where am I? He was staring down a long hallway, the floor littered with mutilated corpses and bullet shells. As he strolled along it, the lights overhead flickered and buzzed as the power began to fail. His foot caught on something, and he nearly tripped. When Gordon looked down, his body tensed in horror at a bloodied Coomer gazing up at him. 

“Why was  he the one that got to leave? What about all of us? The ones who were left behind?” The man muttered, and suddenly there were hundreds of them. They appeared from either end of the hallway, or rose from their places on the floor like zombies. But it wasn’t just Coomer clones, there were also the reanimated bodies of various soldiers. He even spotted the red beret of one that he recognized.

“Gordon!” Coomer stated more firmly, but it sounded different. Less scary, more friendly. He felt something grab his shoulder, and he yelped loud enough to hear it over the sound of  _ Montreal Calling _ when he opened his eyes.

“ _ Take me, take me, get me out of here! Come down please, come help me out _ ” played in his ears as he jumped to a standing position, and he finally realized that he was back on the plane. They had landed, and everyone was exiting. “What the hell?” Bubby snapped, and he glanced down to see them glaring at him impatiently. He saw Tommy, Darnold, and Benrey watching him across the headrests of their seats.

Embarrassment flamed through his body like it was following a trail of gunpowder. “Sorry, you scared me” He mutters, shifting his eyes towards Coomer, who was considering him worriedly. Bubby didn’t share that sentiment. “We got a bus to catch, jackass, move out of the way!” They continued, rolling their eyes, so he grabbed his bag without another word. 

He didn’t even wait for them as he made his way to the front of the plane and out the door. Walking a little ways down the passenger boarding bridge, he found a spot where he could lean against the wall. Gordon’s heart was still racing when the others caught up with him, but none of them spoke about the incident as they soon became excited at his mentioning of the “luggage carousel”. 

“No, it’s not something you can ride!” He explained as they walked through the long open hallways of the Salt Lake City airport, ignoring how the space made him feel vulnerable and exposed. But he had to stop Bubby and Benrey from climbing onto the luggage carousel, so that feeling didn’t last long.

“Well this can’t be right” Gordon murmurs as he stares at the single queen bed in the room. This was probably the result of such haphazard room-booking on Black Mesa’s part, but he didn’t want to believe that he would be sharing a bed with Benrey. His companion replies not with words but with a popping sound. He turns to glance at them, confused, but he registers that they have the same alarm on their face as him.

“Uh, yeah. I need my own bed, cause I’m.. I’m a big boy. Don’t need a stuffed animal anymore” They mumble, and he chuckles incredulously at being referred to as a child’s comfort object. “What, can’t handle sharing a bed with someone else? It’s not a big deal. We’re only here for a few days, man” Gordon replies, giving them a pat on the shoulder before going to dump his luggage on the right side of the bed. He dug out his pajamas and toothbrush before making his way into the bathroom. As he cleaned his teeth, his mind wandered.

He’d never been to a skit resort before, so it was sure to be an interesting experience. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be any injuries. But knowing his luck, that would only apply to him. The Science Gang were impervious and unyielding to all obstacles. When he returned to the bedroom, Benrey was laying on the bed in complete darkness. The only reason he could even see them was from the light peering through the doorway. 

“Yeah, I’m ready to sleep too” Gordon chuckles, but he noticed they were still in their same clothes. “Are you not gonna change into something more comfortable?” He asks, not understanding how they would want to sleep in jeans. “Huh?” They mumble, turning their head to face him, and the harsh lighting illuminates the dark circles under their eyes. “Have.. have you been getting enough sleep?” He wonders aloud, and they mutter something he can’t quite hear. “What?”.

“I said that I don’t know how” Benrey says more loudly, and he doesn’t know how to respond. It made sense, given their origins. Did the Science Gang ever truly sleep during their journey through Black Mesa? Was it more like their code ceased to stop running? Was it because they weren’t fully human? He didn’t know if they were programmed to. Maybe they could even dream, if that was somehow possible. Regardless, how could he explain some as intuitive as sleep? He laid down on the bed beside them and mulled this over for a few moments.

“You kinda just... close your eyes and relax? Eventually, your body loses consciousness as the melatonin production affects your neurons” He explained the only way he could, and Benrey acknowledged this with another popping sound. “Mmm, sounds weird” They murmur, and Gordon exhales out his nose. 

“Well, you can’t just stay awake forever” He states, and they chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’m not human, remember?” Benrey counters, and well, they weren’t wrong. “The others seem to sleep just fine, so what’s stopping you?” Gordon inquires, and there’s silence.

He almost asks it again, in case they didn’t hear him. “Everything’s... so much. But I don’t want to turn off the game, ya know? Just wanna do a 24 hour run, permanently” They breathe, their voice hardly louder than the hum of the room’s heater. “I’ll stay up on my phone or play the PS4 just to... just to keep doing something, ya know? I don’t wanna stop” Benrey continues, gesturing in the air above them. “So you’ve got insomnia, huh? I got something that could help with that” He says, sitting up to grab something out of his suitcase.

It takes him a moment to rifle through the various clothing, but he was glad the bathroom light was still helpfully illuminating the room. “Hold out your hand” Gordon requests, as he unscrews the cap on the plastic bottle. They do as he asks, and gaze down at the two melatonin chewables with great interest. “Feetman’s a drug dealer? That’s illegal. Gonna... gonna have to turn you in for that” Benrey comments, smacking their lips, and he laughs.

“What? No! They’re over the counter, they help you sleep!” He replies in disbelief, popping two into his mouth for good measure. As he chews, they mimic this action and hum with approval at the taste. Gordon goes to turn off the bathroom light, wondering if he should leave it on but deciding against it, and removes his glasses to place on the bedside table. “I’m gonna try and sleep” He announces, lifting up the covers and sliding underneath them. His head hits the pillow and his thoughts drift into oblivion.

The remnants of a dream filled with gunshots and gore thankfully didn’t shadow him into the real world. But when he opened his eyes, he couldn’t figure out why it was so bright. The curtains were wide open, and all he could make out was a blurry silhouette right in the center. He snatched his glasses off the table, and when he could finally see, he saw that it was Benrey. “What are you doing...?” Gordon asks, a yawn punctuating his question. “It’s snowing!” They shout, and before he can chastise them for being so loud after he just woke up, he stops himself. 

He swings out of the bed and joins them at the window, eventually confirming the presence of an overcast sky raining down flurries. When he turned to say something about how this was an expected occurrence on such a trip, he stopped when he noticed how.. overjoyed they looked, lavender eyes wide with amazement at the falling snowflakes. It felt like a precious moment that he couldn’t look away from, the first snowfall experienced by a computer program.

“Well, I’m gonna go get changed, and then we can head down to breakfast with the others” Gordon declares, and Benrey nods wordlessly as they continue fogging up the glass with their breath. With a turtleneck and sweatpants now adorning his body, he called them away from the window and sent off a text to the others to meet in the lounge where breakfast would be served. 

The smell of the buffet called to his stomach, and he was too busy filling up a plate to be bothered by Benrey standing a little too closely to him. The rest of the group soon joined them at the booth he selected for the six of them, and he listened idly to their conversations as he scarfed down some french toast.

“Do they serve coffee here? I need some damn caffeine...” Bubby grumbled, and they began a journey in search of a coffee maker mere seconds after arriving. “Make me a cup, dear!” Coomer called after them, which they acknowledged with a wave of their hand. “Oh, they have french toast? That sounds great” Darnold commented, casting a glance at Gordon’s plate. His mouth was full, so he gave a simple nod of approval. 

He and Tommy quickly went off in search of their breakfast, while Coomer seemed quite content on sitting for the time being. “Aren’t.. aren’t you going to eat?” He asks after swallowing, and the man’s face crinkles into a smile. “Oh, I already ate sometime ago. I do believe I surprised the staff with how many servings of their delicious food I tucked into!” Coomer replies, and he can believe it. Their well-defined biceps certainly needed the protein to maintain their bulk.

“So, how did you two lovebirds sleep last night? Soundly, I presume?” The man continues, and Gordon’s hand freezes before the fork containing another mouthful could reach his mouth. Beside him, he heard Benrey nearly do a spit take with their bowl of cereal. Before either of them could say anything, the others returned with their prospective hauls and neither wanted that specific topic to linger. Thankfully, Coomer didn’t push the ludicrous subject any further and he went back to consuming his large serving of sugary, syrupy bread.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m doing it!” Gordon yelled, finally having gotten the hang of balancing on his snow skis. It taken him nearly ten minutes of maneuvering across the snow like a deer on a frozen pond before he could perform simple movements without fear of falling. 

“Aw, but you were so close to eating some dank snow, Feetman!” Benrey jeered, earning an exasperated glare from him. How the others had mastered the activity before him, he would never understand. At first, Tommy had struggled like him, but once they figured out how to properly balance with their high center of gravity, they were cruising around the beginner’s area with ease. That left the only human of the group in the computer programs’ dust.

“We oughta go to a different area. This place is for babies” Bubby suggests when the group gathered together for a water break, and Gordon tried not to take offense. It wasn’t his fault that everyone but him seemed to excel at physical activities. 

“Yeah! The difficulty on this game’s too low, what’s the next one?” Benrey agreed, and Coomer was already pulling out his phone to look up a map of the resort. “It says here that the Sunrise ski lift will take us to a more advanced set of trails!” They exclaim, and the three turned to look at him expectantly. 

“What? I say we go for it, sounds like fun. The Last Chance Lawn is definitely lame” Gordon accepts, and the group races off towards the nearby lift. 

By the time he catches up, Bubby and Coomer had already settled onto a bench. Tommy and Darnold were next to be whisked away, leaving just him and Benrey. “You better not shove me off, bro” They comment snidely as Gordon pulls the safety bar down over their legs. 

“I physically can’t, even if I wanted to” He replies with a roll of his eyes, and they’re soon traveling up the slope thirty feet off the ground. His gut churns at the height, grimly wondering what would happen if he fell, but he’s able to suppress it with the knowledge that the ride will only be a few minutes.

But that relief is cut short when the ski lift stops moving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a Lemon Demon lyric reference in here, good luck finding it
> 
> Ya know how Gordon spent most of the series getting Panicked and Frustrated with the science team about their shenanigans? I’m paralleling that
> 
> Hal Gerty is a reference to two AI characters!
> 
> Benrey was Emotionally Exhausted by the therapy session, neurodivergent tired moments from explaining yourself
> 
> If you’ll noticed, Gordon hasn’t referred to the Science Gang as his friends.. yet
> 
> Benrey vocal stims like me, I usually make lil squeaking noises with my lips to acknowledge someone saying something or I repeat certain phrases/names for no reason to myself
> 
> the next chapter will be up soon, it helps that I cut this section of the story into three chapters rather than one superrr long one


	5. Hostile Attribution Bias

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for describing The Hand Incident and a big ol’ panic attack
> 
> I worked Very Hard on this chapter, trying to make it Good, hope y’all enjoy!

“Oh my god...” Gordon breathes, his lungs seizing up like they were filling with concrete. The two of them were stuck. “Yooo, what’s happening? Why aren’t we moving?” They chuckle, glancing all around as if they could find the source of the problem. Their nonchalance made his blood boil.

“Don’t fucking play dumb! You planned for this, didn’t you?” He snaps, glaring at them with as much anger as he could muster. “Huh?” They mumble, eyes wide as saucers, and his hands quivered intensely on his lap.

If he blinked, he could find himself right back in that small room. The doors had shut behind him as the lights blinked out, and a fist slammed into the back of his head, nearly knocking him unconscious. He fell to the floor, and was met with a flurry of kicks to his back and torso that he tried desperately to protect himself from, curling inwards like a pathetic armadillo. The HEV suit was made to protect him against radiation and stray sparks of plasma, not being pummeled in the kidneys.

He was quietly pleading and begging for someone, anyone to help him as the air was knocked from his lungs time and time again. All he got in return was the joyful, traitorous spectating from the Science Team as they egged on his attackers. What did he do to deserve that? He was just trying to lead everyone to safety! 

Gordon felt himself flattened onto his stomach, and there was the weight of someone kneeling against his back. “Gimme your blowtorch” A gruff voice had muttered, a flame suddenly illuminated his periphery. When he tried to struggle, they barked for someone to “hold him still”, and his arms were subsequently pressed into the concrete. 

“What... what are you doing?!” He had yelped as a firework of sparks flew from the tool, watching fearfully as the stranger cut into the lead alloy of his suit. “Stop!” Gordon had yelled as he felt the heat grow closer and closer to his skin, but he was met with cruel chuckles of laughter. 

The butane-fueled flames seared into  his flesh with the temperature of a thousand suns, and he vaguely remembers how loud he was screaming from the pain.

“Gordon, chill out!” Benrey shouted, and he felt a hand pulling at his right arm. “Don’t fucking touch me!” He shrieks, ripping it from their grasp. His breathing was shallow, and the edges of his vision were painted with black. How could he let this happen again? He should have known better. He was so fucking stupid. 

“I can’t.. believe, that I let you.. trick me again!” He wheezes, clutching at the folds of his brightly colored jacket. Even when he tried gulping down air through his mouth, he couldn’t escape the smell of burning flesh. 

The intensity of flames cutting through muscle and bone, of the delayed loss of sensation in his nerves, where he almost thought he could still control his now amputated hand. Maybe it would be better if he quit breathing altogether, he was surely close to blacking out—

“Breathe for four seconds, bro” Benrey states so softly he almost doesn’t hear it. “Why?” Gordon forces out through an exhale, feeling the muscles in his chest twitching erratically. “Secret breathing technique, gonna... it’s gonna make you breathe real good” They counter, and if he had the energy to laugh, he would have. 

So instead, he focuses his efforts on doing as they said. “Now uh, hold it for six- no, seven seconds” They continue, and he thought his lungs were going to explode from the lack of air. 

But they didn’t, and now Benrey was giving another instruction. “Breathe out through your mouth for.. eight seconds? Yeah, eight seconds” They say, and the relief from the action of exhaling felt like heroin. “Do it again” Benrey suddenly requests, and he’s about to protest before they shoot him an icy glare. 

Closing his eyes indignantly, he breathes in for four seconds, holds it for seven, and exhales for eight. In, hold, out. Four, seven, eight. The repetitiveness of it all becomes as routine as clockwork, and when he opens his eyes again, he realizes that the ski lift is moving once more. 

“Thanks-“ Gordon says, but stops wondering how they knew about relaxing breathing techniques at the sight of Benrey’s face. There were lines of tears streaking down their cheeks, and it rendered him speechless. “I.. I’m so sorry, dude. We.. we went through  so many  saves before meeting you. Nothing had ever really mattered, and the players were always cringe” Benrey elaborates, staring down at the snowy landscape beneath their feet.

He’d never thought about how many simulations the Science Gang had been put through before, and that... that honestly explained some things. It must have been like they were trapped in purgatory. Probably contributed to their hostile behavior, like rats trapped in a never-ending labyrinth.

“Never did like any of the previous nerds Black Mesa shoved into the game slot. They always made fun of us... but, uh, you never did. It was different, ya know, ‘everyone liked that’ and all” They added more quietly, and now it was Gordon’s turn to stare at the snow-capped trees.

He thought everyone had just simply tolerated him. All the ribbing, joking, and condescension.. it had never felt like they wanted him there. A hinderance to the group that was slowing everyone down. They’d even told him that on multiple occasions. But the fact that they enjoyed his company, despite how he would sometimes stoop to angry levels of pettiness? He didn’t know how to process that.

“And that scripted cutscene had played out hundreds of times before, basic ‘beat up the protag to make them pee their pants’. But with you... the boot boys had never chopped the player’s arm off, ever. It was mad scary. All of us were about to step in, so we could stop ‘em from.. from doing worse, then everything crashed” They continue, and now he doesn’t understand. 

He remembers blacking out from the pain, but nothing about the simulation ending. “What do you mean?” Gordon asks, and they wipe off their face with their sleeve.

“Something.. something about us getting more ‘emotional’ than we were supposed to, that the sim had gotten ‘too real’. So they nerfed us, scattered us across the map, but it just made the code more unstable. It’s.. it’s why I ended up as the big bad. Un-four-zeen consequence” Benrey mutters, their voice becoming muffled as they pull up the scarf around their neck to cover their face.

“So... it was all just part of the game? Y’all didn’t really mean it?” Gordon states more than asks, and they nod. This makes him laugh. And he keeps laughing, until tears formed in his eyes and his companion started to worry. “Uh, you good?” Benrey question, and he waves them off. “Yeah, it’s just, knowing that you guys weren’t being truly malicious is... it’s comforting, I guess?” He replies, watching his breath cloud the air.

“And that y’all actually enjoy being around me...” Gordon adds more quietly, hating how small his voice sounds. “Bro, what? You, uh, you wearing a headcrab or somethin’? Headcrab hat? It.. it wouldn’t be the Science Team without ya” They sputter in disbelief, and he doesn’t know what to say. “Oh”.

“We’re still buggy and, and need a ton of patches.. but this beta version is pretty good, right? We being good? Good boys?” Benrey continues, their face shifting as they stare at him. It took him a moment to recognize what it was. 

He had only seen that expression on the albino one single time. It was fear. “Uh, yeah. Y’all have been doing pretty great so far. Gold stars all around” Gordon assures them, now suddenly worried about what their fear implied, but Benrey’s face morphs into a bright smile full of teeth. 

It dispelled his concerns like the sun shining through clouds. “Gonna.. gonna make this the best trip of your life, bro. You’re gonna shred these trails so good with your big ol’ feet” They bark, and he laughs, feeling the remaining weight in his chest dissipate completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gordon: *needs reassurance that people care about him, thinks people hate him esp since he can be pretty mean sometimes*  
> The Science Gang: is anyone gonna help this man? no? he’s ours now, even if we won’t be Psychologically Perfect Help


	6. Attention Focus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since posting the last chapter, I’ve been busy with work, trying to relax from masking fatigue from working so much, and then January 6th happened. So my mental health has been very burned out lately, but I didn’t stop thinking of this fic! 
> 
> I did cut some content from this just so I could put this out and FINALLY move onto the next story bits, though said cut content will find it’s way back in later in
> 
> next chapter is the holiday chapter, which I HAD wanted done before New Year’s and that didn’t happen lmao
> 
> finally, ya know that feeling after a mental breakdown where things feel Startling Clear? tried to show that off in this chapter lol

Snowflakes brushed against his face as he picked up speed on the trail, and every rational scrap of instinct in his brain screamed at him for daring to lean into the momentum, but the adrenaline rush was too tempting to ignore. Because for the first time in months, he felt alive. Gone was the heaviness of the depression that had encased his mind in ice, and replacing it was a frenzied slip-n-slide of endorphins.

“Yo, you’ve got it!” Benrey yelled not too far behind him, but the wind whipping past his ears slightly drowned it out. Gordon tried not to focus too much on the scenery around him, beautiful as it was, since he didn’t want to crash into a tree. He wasn’t wearing a helmet— none of them were— so a cranial injury on a mountain was far from ideal.

There was a sharp turn approaching, and as he carved through the apex, the course soon mellowed out into an even straight-away that begged for him to take it easy. He could just coast.

“Nice.. great job, Gordon!” Tommy shouts as the rest of the group seems to catch up, but with Bubby quickly overtaking him to race farther ahead. “I believe the kids say you ‘pogged’ it!” He exclaims as he shoots past, soon disappearing over the next hill at a startling rate. 

“Wait for me, Professor Bubby!” Coomer exclaims, following his partner over the elevated section of the trail. There was a distant yell, most likely indignation at the “lowly” title. He smiled, and cast a look over his shoulder at the others.

“It feels just like using my rocket boots!” Darnold mentions soon after, the four of them gliding across the terrain at a much slower pace than the two elders of the group. Gordon spared a glance at their surroundings as they glided leisurely, and the idyllic landscape was definitely breathtaking. The snow-blanketed cedar trees could be on a postcard. 

Benrey’s shoulder-length hair spiked out behind them in utter disarray from under their beanie, and before he could make a comment on how it evoked an image of Jack Frost, they smirked. “Yo, last one to the bottom’s a rotten headcrab!” They yell, blitzing forward and nearly knocking him over as they barreled past.

“Hey, asshole! Be careful!” Gordon fumed, regaining his balance after cartoonishly waving his arms around. He might have gotten better at skiing, but he wasn’t an expert just yet.

“Wait.. wait for us, you two!” Tommy said as he shoved his pair of ski poles into the ground, but he was concentrating too much to really hear them as he sped up. Instead, every brain cell was focused on catching up to the white-haired bastard tearing down the mountain. He wasn’t going to let them win.

“Do you really think that uh, Bubby should be doing this?” Gordon asks, when the man was far out of hearing range. He didn’t exactly know how sturdy the Science Team’s bodies were, and someone modeled after a person in their 60’s about to snowboard in a half-pipe was concerning him. 

“Are you suggesting that perhaps he is too fragile, hmm?” Coomer countered, shifting from staring at the course to side-eyeing Gordon, and he couldn’t tell if they were joking around or not. The slight esotropia of Coomer’s eyes didn’t hinder the potential intimidation factor of their gaze. He was just kidding around, right? They weren’t actually mad at him, yeah?

As he quietly gulped, he remembered how terrifying that look had been once before, so any attempts at correcting his presumption of Bubby’s physical strength died in his throat. Coomer’s demeanor transformed in an instant at his hesitance. Maybe he had just imagined the hidden venom in those green eyes.

“Well, even if he did have the typical physique of someone our biological age, that wouldn’t stop them, no siree! Bubby has the determination of a stubborn bull” Coomer continues jovially, as if Gordon’s heart hadn’t totally just stopped beating for a moment. He shook his head, and braced his forearms against the fence in front of the four of them.

The sun had finally broken through the clouds, and the light reflecting off the snow was dazzling. But he was still able to watch as snowboarders came speeding down the hill one after another, performing a variety of tricks and maneuvers that he could only dream of doing.

“Look! There’s Bubby!” Tommy cried out, pointing higher up on the course. Sure enough, they were traveling down the steep incline and zooming up the side of the halfpipe. 

Gordon kept his concerns to himself as they bent their knees to grasp the board between their feet as they sailed into the air, landing on the snow below with a slight wobble that they quickly recovered from as they coasted towards the other side of the halfpipe. “What an excellent indy grab, dear!” Coomer cheered, pumping a fist into the air.

On the next free fall, Bubby flipped around as they spun. And on the following setup, they repeated this maneuver. “Those were some wonderful backside 360’s!” Coomer exclaimed, while Darnold and Tommy gave shouts of encouragement. Gordon felt compelled to do the same. It definitely wasn’t something he could do, that’s for sure.

When the former pyrokinetic reached the end, he turned his head to search for Benrey. It didn’t take long to find them, as they were tearing ass down the hill even faster than Bubby had been. 

“Oh my god” He muttered, watching as they rocketed up the side of the halfpipe into a complex flip that made his body tense. “Wowie, a backside cork 540!” Coomer marveled, and Gordon had to agreed as his horrified concern turned to amazement.

It was like they were defying physics, and bending it to their will with each launch into the air. When Benrey approached the section of the course where the four of them stood, they gave a large smile and a cackle that he heard through the entirety of their next gravity-taunting trick. He stared with an open mouth as they prepared for another maneuver.

“What kind of—“ Gordon asked, turning his head for a fraction of a second so he could question Coomer, but he was cut off by the sound of a rough slamming noise. He looked back and saw Benrey somersaulting head-over-heels down the incline of the halfpipe. 

Now the concern was back. “Ouch! A double Mctwist is quite the difficult trick to stick the landing on...” Coomer commented, with Darnold and Tommy cringing sympathetically.

“Shit, Benrey, are you okay!?” He yells, staring down anxiously at their crumpled form. A moment passes before he sees them flash a thumbs up, getting to their feet and dusting the snow off their legs before continuing down the center of the course like the fall had never happened. It made him scowl. 

“Oh, they’ll be fine, Gordon” Tommy speaks up, and he’s further irked by the smug expression on their face. “Y’all aren’t in a video game anymore, you can’t be so reckless...” He grumbles, and they concede to this with a shrug, but their optimism erodes into his worrying like oxidizing metal as the group leaves to meet up with the other two members.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I researched a lot more than necessary into snowboarding and How It Works than was actually showcased in this chapter lmao, even watched some clips of the Pyeongchang 2018 events among random snowboarding tip videos... it’s a WILD sport, these people are totally off the shits with these tricks


	7. Accommodation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this was a struggle between my ideas and my executive dysfunction, but I did it!

_ “What?” He’d asked, completely taken aback by Tommy’s nonchalant admission. “Uh, yeah? It.. it was a lot to take in. Did you, did you think it was super.. was that easy?” They replied, exasperation oozing from their face. At least they weren’t offended at his surprise, judging by their smile. “No, of course not..!” Gordon countered, however with words left unsaid: ‘except you’re not fully human’.  _

_ He still couldn’t reconcile those two facts, that the group of people sitting in the restaurant booth with him looked human, but technically weren’t. Or were they? Those blurred lines had made him completely ignore this predicament that the Science Gang was surely dealing with on a daily basis— an uncomfortable awareness that they were different from everyone around them— in favor of concentrating on his own problems with the situation. _

_ “It was quite the rude awakening, you could say!” Coomer had chimed in from across the table, and shame consequently sunk further into his bones as he mulled over his recent selfishness. He should have been more observant. Those tears streaking down Benrey’s face flashed in his mind. Such emotion couldn’t have been only for his sake, right? All of them must be dealing with a lot, just like him. Maybe they were all one bad moment away from a breakdown. _

_ “You’re damn right about that. This jackass practically forgot how to breathe!” Bubby added, tilting their head towards Benrey. The albino gave a sheepish grin. “Yeah, uh, had to learn some killer cheats” They elaborate, giving Gordon a knowing look. There was the explanation for that little mystery. It was learned from experience. _

_ “Well, at least we’re all here to support one another” Darnold mentioned, seeming to pick up on his sullen mood. Tommy validated these words with a nod, and Coomer threw an affectionate glance towards their partner, which Bubby returned with a small smile. The conversation pivoted away from the dour topic quite easily, but its claws refused to release their grip on Gordon’s thoughts. _

“Hey, are you going to hand me the lights or what?” Bubby snapped, and he jerked his attention upwards. Zoning out while holding the ladder on which an elderly man was perched wasn’t the best idea.

“Sorry, here” He pulls a long string of holiday LEDs from their wooden container. The Science Team wanted to go all out in decorating for the holidays, and this included the exterior of the house as well. A Las Vegas casino would use less electricity than this, though Tommy assured him that they would inspect for any potential fire hazards. 

When Coomer had inquired of a male-to-male extension plug, Gordon thought they were going to faint from the mere suggestion of such an OSHA-inducing nightmare.

He had left that situation rather swiftly and decided to help Bubby attach strings of lights to the roof, figuring that they could use his assistance as their partner was currently being aggressively lectured on electrical arcing. But that conversation from last week was still rattling distractingly around his skull, it seemed. 

“Is.. is it enough?” He asks as Bubby steps down the ladder back onto the ground. He doesn’t know how much more decoration shopping he could take at this point. “Barely!” They respond, and he turns his head to glance across the yard. “Harold, did you find that damn extension cord?” The man yells unnecessarily, Gordon flinching at the sound.

“Oh, I do believe we will need to make another trip to the store, dearest!” Coomer shouts back, cutting off whatever statement Tommy was in the middle of making. He barely restrains the groan that rumbles throughout his chest. The idea of traveling another twenty minutes to the nearest Lowe’s sounded painful. So he considers a potentially foolish idea.

“Don’t make me regret this... you know where the car keys are hanging, right?” Gordon asks, and Bubby wastes no time in connecting the dots. “Of course you can!” They respond, scrambling inside the house as if to prevent Gordon from changing his mind. 

The SUV is hardly out of the driveway before heavy bass begins pulsating from the speakers at a concerning volume, contrasted by the squeal of tires as Bubby floors it once they reach the main street. The consequential roar of the engine sounds like a bad omen. A signal of impending doom.

“What have I done?” He mumbles under his breath, watching as the car speeds off down the winding mountain road, and he hears Tommy laugh. “I think, I think it’ll be just.. just fine” They smile, and he can only trust in their optimism that Bubby doesn’t get into a police chase.

The two of them head inside, where Gordon’s struck with the delectable aroma of sugar and gingerbread. “It smells good in—“ He says, his voice cutting off when he sees the state of the kitchen.

A blizzard of flour coats the countertops, while boxes of cookie dough and mixing bowls were positioned thoughtlessly atop the fine layer of white crystals. 

On the counter nearest to the stove, Darnold and Benrey stood with their backs to them. “Like this, see?” The mixologist stated, his arms moving in demonstration of something.

He cleared his throat. “Is everything alright in here?” Gordon asks, and the duo turn around. “Ah, you two are just in time for the decorating!” Darnold replies excitedly, seemingly disregarding his concern of the absolute and utter mess that had been made.

“Yeah? What kind of cookies did you.. did you guys make?” Tommy asks, and he figures he can forgive the disorder if delicious treats resulted from it. 

Two cooking sheets held a motley of holiday shaped confections against parchment paper: sugar cookies shaped like pine trees and stars, while rows of gingerbread people lined the other.

“They’re just some little dudes” Benrey mumbles, holding up a gingerbread person before biting its head off with a loud crunch. “Hey, that’s the third one! No more!” Darnold scolds, waving his finger before shoving a pastry bag full of icing into their free hand. 

Tommy decides to swipe a sugar cookie at that moment, earning a gasp of betrayal from the pâtissier as they eat the dessert in one bite.

Gordon feels tempted to do the same, but holds that urge back. “Need some help with icing them?” He asks, and Darnold nods appreciatively as the oven timer beeps.

The doorbell rings, and Gordon has no idea who it could be as he rises from the couch. Stepping through a graveyard of wrapping paper and gift-boxes, he makes his way to the front of the house while the Science Team continue focusing intently on their Christmas gifts. Benrey hardly even registered the sound, eyes glued to the Nintendo Switch in their lap.

He glanced through the peephole, and balked at who stood on the doormat. Gordon’s hand instinctively grasped the handle before he was ready to face them, and now unnaturally blue eyes took in his presence when the door swung open. 

“Ah, Mr. Freeman. It’s.. a pleasure to meet you, in the flesh, hm?” The man stated, their stilted cadence just as unnerving as it had been during those reality-bending moments in the simulation. “Are... are you real?” He sputters, and the man laughs, more of a grumbling chuckle than anything.

A sudden woof distracts him from the corporation-given-human-form, and that was when he noticed the dog. A young golden retriever sat obediently at the feet of “Mr. Coolatta”, but they looked ready to spring into affectionate excitement at the sight of a stranger by the way their tail was wagging. 

“Ah, yes. Is Tommy, here? I took the liberty of searching for.. a worthy match, as my child deserves only, the best” He continues, inclining their head in a silent question. Gordon wordlessly moves aside, and as he’s closing the door, there’s a squeal of excitement from the living room.

“Is that a...?!” Tommy exclaims, and the puppy dashes forth to investigate the horde of people in the adjacent room. They bound over to the tall individual now kneeling on the floor in awe, giving them a vigorous facial cleanse with their tongue.

“She’s a gift, if you’ll have her.. that is” Tommy’s supposed father elaborates, and the look on their face is pure euphoria. “Oh... just like Sunkist! I.. thank you, sir!” They respond, before eagerly petting the now belly-up dog rolling on the floor.

“Before I take my leave, may I speak with you... in private?” Mr. Coolatta requests, barely audible amidst the resulting cacophony of voices as the others chime in with their opinions of the new addition to the household. Gordon nods, and the two of them walk to the front porch once again.

“Tommy doesn’t remember you, does he?” He asks once the door closes, and the man nods. “You are correct, as that was the intention upon their and the others’ awakening” They explain, a melancholic look dawning upon their face.

“You see, the AI have slight origins in the memories of real people, as a sort of.. template. Tommy was based upon my own child, who.. passed away in an accident” The man continues, and Gordon feels a pang of sympathy that he hopes shows in his expression.

“You don’t have to avoid them, ya know” He counters, but they shake their head. “It’s.. better this way. An affinity for spinning top toys and dogs does not, make them my child” They continue, a faraway look in their piercing blue eyes that fades away after a slight head shake.

He’s caught off guard by what they say next: “It reassures me, to know that you’re the one looking after them”. So much so that he nearly misses the accompanying farewell. They returned to their car, and as it backed out of the driveway, Gordon realized he never got their true name.

“Happy New Year, bitches!” Bubby shouted, running away from the large set-up of fireworks on the pavement. It exploded in a host of colors not a second later, prompting a chorus of ooo’s and ah’s from the group.  Gordon was surprised that Benrey had their ears plugged tight, but at least they seemed enthralled by the display.

When the pyrotechnics concluded, a yawn from Darnold had a cascading effect on the others. He and Tommy went to go comfort Sunkist, while the eldest two of the group decided to go to sleep. 

Gordon chose to lounge on the couch to relish in the post-celebration silence. But so had Benrey. They sat on the other end of the sofa, clicking away at the buttons of their Switch. The air hummed with invisible electricity. Probably tinnitus from the fireworks.

“Dude” They say, and he snaps his head to look at them. Benrey’s face turns vaguely confused when he waits for them to continue. “What?” He asks, and they roll their eyes. “You didn’t laugh at my amazing joke” They mumble, before saying something he can’t quite hear.

“Huh?” Gordon exclaims, and they barely raise their voice enough for him to hear the words “always laughed in the game, guess I’m not funny anymore”.

“What are you talking about?” He asks, completely lost trying to follow their thought process. Maybe he should’t even bother, their brain seemed too incomprehensible for him to understand. 

“You were always laughing at my jokes, and now you’re not. Did I fuck up?” Benrey elaborates, but before he can try to answer, they keep going.

“That’s how you makes friends, yeah? Making them laugh? Being a real comedian? Do I need to start wearing a clown costume?” They continue, and he laughs incredulously at that mental image.

“No? You just.. talk to people” Gordon explains, and they seemed stumped at that response. “We’re... we’re talking right now. Conversations don’t have to be this big ordeal, ya know? God knows we dealt with enough of that in the game, some semblance of normalcy would be appreciated” He remarks, and their eyes shift downwards back to their video game.

“Cool”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I agonized A LOT about how I wanted Benrey and Gordon’s dialogue at the end to go, but I think I got something that I like


End file.
